“Lief, what do I do?” I hiss.
“Oh, relax, you big baby,” Lief says, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like it’s going to kill you. The worst it could do is scratch up your arm.”
“I still don’t want that, either!’
I stand perfectly still as the egg cracks, and cracks, and cracks, until finally the entire shell crumbles to the ground, and out rolls a griffin chick. It lands flat on its face, and it lays there in its nest, face-down, for much longer than should be healthy. I think about approaching it, but a heartbeat later, the chick pops up onto its feet, looking around frantically, as if embarrassed by its fall.
“It’s…kind of cute,” I admit.
I let my guard down. I’m not sure why I was afraid of this thing, other than I was expecting something like its mother to pop out of that egg. Instead of a flesh-eating, steely-eyed killer, this chick has downy gray feathers, adorable brown eyes, and floppy wings that haven’t even grown in their flight feathers. The best it can do is flap around its wings as it dries them, clumsily falling onto its side in the process.
“See? You were worried for nothing,” Lief says, smirking triumphantly.
At the sound of Lief’s voice, the griffin chick looks our way. It cocks its head to the side as it peers at me. Cautiously, it steps out of its nest on wobbly legs, approaching me with uncertainty. When I try to take a step toward it, it backpedals, but fails to keep its balance and falls right on its butt. I have to cover my mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Okay, this is actually adorable,” I say.
The chick peeps at me, much louder than a chicken’s peep, but with all the ferocity of a kitten. I decide to take a seat on the ground, so I stop towering over it and offer out my hand to smell.
“Come on. I don’t bite, unlike your mother,” I offer.
The chick’s behavior changes in an instant. It leaps to its feet, sprints over to me, and bowls me over in an awkward bird hug. I sit there, frozen, very unsure what to do as the chick rubs its face on my chest.
“Lief? Any ideas?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Lief snickers, his eyes glinting mischievously.
I shoot him a look. “Why are you laughing like that?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just—I think you’ve been identified as its mom.”
“It’s—what?”
The chick rests its head on my chest, looking at me with adoration, which I didn’t think was possible for a griffin until now. It’s so cute, I can’t help but pat its head. It closes its eyes and leans into my touch, letting out a string of quiet chirrups that melt my heart even more.
“…Aurelio?”
“Alessia, you won’t want to miss this!” Lief cackles.
I glance to my right, noticing that Alessia’s just sitting up from her nap. She stares at me in confusion.
“What’s going on here?”
“We have a problem,” I sigh. “We killed a mother griffin. Baby griffin here just hatched.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Alessia grumbles. “Now it’s going to follow us everywhere.”
“Is that really such a bad thing?” Lief points out. “This is an incredibly rare opportunity. Griffins are as intelligent as humans and can learn human speech by the time they’re adults. They only attack humans and other monsters out of fear and hunger, not aggression. This chick here would be a symbol of strength and empathy for your nation.”
“He’s got a point,” I say, shrugging. “Plus, this little guy’s pretty cute.”
“You can’t be serious,” Alessia says, deadpanning.
“Why not? It’s not like I can leave it to die, not after we killed its mother.”
“That wasn’t our fault. It tried to kill us.”
“Still, I feel like it’s our responsibility all the same.”
